Page 44 of The Wife Deception
"Oh." Jacqueline looked too shrewd to fall for a con, but con artists typically target women her age for the most lucrative scams. "I feel so sorry for her."
"Don't be. I tried to warn her, but she wouldn't listen. The money she lost wasn't hers, but she's trying to play the victim so she can gain the most sympathy points amongst her friends."
"I mean, she was victimized." She could be a stick up the ass, but no one deserved to be scammed.
"Yeah? She could have stayed in a hotel, but she insisted on staying with me. Why?"
"Maybe she's seeking solace from a loved one after a tragic event?"
Nolan snorted. "I told you my parents are a different breed. My mother especially. She can't stand being wrong, and she was colossally incorrect this time around, so she wants attention, sympathy, anything. Anyway, over time, I've seen that ignoring her antics results in her giving up and leaving you alone."
Nolan went to take a shower, and I pondered what he said as I put the pillow barrier between us. It hadn't worked last time, so I don't know why I thought it would work again. By the time Nolan came back, I was in bed reading a book I had found in his study. He had such an interesting collection. I had wandered into the room looking for a pen for my artwork when I got pulled in by the neatly organized bookshelf. Like everything about him. Disorder was not a concept he knew.
The book that attracted me was a classic. Sherlock Holmes. I've always wanted to read the original, so why not? But Arther Conan Doyle's language and style was a bit hard to read for my modern sensibilities. I guess it will make a good sleeping drug.
Nolan frowned when he saw me reading it. Oh no. I hope I didn't make a mess of his precious book. I made a deliberate statement of reading it and flipped a page with a dramatic flair. He got into bed, picked up a tablet that had been lying on his nightstand and said, "You do know that's a first edition?"
My hands shook, and the book almost slid. "What?" I flipped to the front page to check, as though I knew what a first edition would look like. "Sorry! I didn't mean to." No wonder it was behind a glass case. I thought he had put it there for aesthetics.
He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Books are meant to be read, anyway."
"Are you sure?"
"Trust me, you can raid the entire collection for all I care. It was my father's. I inherited his collection when he died. That must be worth twenty thousand dollars at least. The fifteenth century Italian manuscript that was next to it is much more valuable by a factor of twenty. Don't read that."
I closed the book and set in on the nightstand with the caution of someone handling a twenty thousand dollar book. "I don't think your father would be happy with me going through his collection and devaluing it with my grubby hands."
"All the more reason to do so." The venom in his voice was unmistakable. Sometimes I would forget he hated his father and then he would react like this.
"What was your relationship like?"
"Huh."
"You and your dad."
Nolan sighed and looked like he was about to respond when, instead, his face darkened and he said, "None of your business."
Ooookay. "Sorry for asking. But it's rather sad that you have an awful relationship with both your parents. It must fuck up a person,you know."
"My shrink says I am fine," he said curtly.
I doubt the shrink said that, or that he spoke to one at all. It was a warning that I shouldn't push it. If there was something I knew about my husband, it is that he gave these little 'don't go there' warning signs. But for some reason, maybe it was his mother, maybe it was something else. I wanted to go there. I wanted to know why he was the way he was.
"Your shrink should give you a refund. They did a bad job."
"And what does that mean?"
"You have clear hangups when it comes to your family. You act like a parent to your siblings. You hate your mother and your father. You don't want kids."
"How do you know I don't want children?"
"The way you were scared at the thought of being baby trapped said all that needed to be said."
"I want kids, just not ones with the Burgess stink on them."
"Funny." The jab shouldn't have hurt more than it did, but I still felt it to my core. It reminded me he could be cruel when he wanted to. It was another warning, but I pushed forward regardless. Our conversation on the yacht came back to me. "You think love doesn't exist and you low-key hate yourself."
"Ay..."
